


Forging Shields and Swords

by nicoleiacross



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Blind Oracle Noctis, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Male Friendship, Tenebraean Ignis, Tenebraean Prince Prompto, Young Gladiolus, Young Ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross
Summary: {Companion Fic forCatastrophe and the Cure}Companion pieces for heyjealousy's Tenebraean Prince Prompto x (Blind) Oracle Noctis roleswap fic ♥ featuring tiny Gladio and Ignis, figuring out their roles to their respective lieges.





	1. Much Better

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Child](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180410) by [liziscribbles (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/liziscribbles). 



> Aaaand, I'm back again with fun companion stuff to go with the absolutely lovely heyjealousy ♥ Chapter 1 is set prior to her fic, but be sure to check hers out for cute baby Prompto!!!

When Ignis agreed to following his new friend outside, he definitely wasn't expecting this. He's not expecting Gladio to take hold of his wrist, he's not expecting a hurried apology when the other boy seems to instantaneously remember his aversion to being touched, and he's _certainly_ not expecting seeking out the hand on his own. For safety, he'd said, and it wasn't a lie. Gladio didn't know the manor grounds as well as Ignis and Ignis _still_ has no idea where they're going. Which makes this alleged surprise all the more worrisome. After a few short minutes he frowns and tugs on Gladio's hand a little to try asking again.

"If you tell me, I can point us in the right direction."

The older boy just shakes his head, stubbornly, "Know where we're goin' just hard to navigate the dark. Set stuff up earlier, just gotta get back to it." He grips Ignis' hand a little tighter and, even with the light of the moon only peeking in every few feet, it's still enough that he can see the smile. So, Ignis lets it go and walks a bit closer. They're well past manor grounds by now, but… he's still not entirely certain where they're going.

While he's mulling the thoughts over, there's a comfortable silence between them and he ends up thinking about that instead. Just a few days ago, they'd been fighting. Shield to the Lucian prince, advisor to the Tenebraean royalty and the two of them were… remarkably short tempered with one another.

That had been a rather unusual fiasco—especially for Ignis—and resulted in their families keeping them away from one another as much as possible the first day. Honestly, Ignis can't really remember _what_ caused the fight… but he knows Prompto was involved. Because Prompto being involved is the _only_ time Ignis forgets he's not supposed to snap at guests. Had Prince Noctis been involved as well? Perhaps… that would explain Gladio's role in their fight, at any rate. Ravus had intervened before things got _too_ heated between the younger children and just in time for their parents to show up and usher the two away from one another. Queen Sylva and King Regis had been alarmed and, admittedly, Ignis is still more than a little ashamed for the outburst—especially since Prompto had gone right back to playing with Noctis, if he'd even noticed anything had happened—but… things have worked out. 

The night following, Ignis had woken up to shuffling in the hall and, in utter annoyance, had gone to check on the noises. He was already cranky from the fight and the bouts of insomnia tended to make him even moreso until he managed to finally sleep. What he'd found, surprisingly enough, was an equally irate looking Gladio. Irate but… anxious irate. He hadn't even waited to be questioned, didn't seem to realise who he was talking to, just asked a simple question—where did the healers sleep. Startled, because honestly who _wouldn't_ jump to the worst conclusions when questioned for a healer—Ignis had answered without hesitation and offered to show him the way.

He quickly found out the healer was for the baby that was traveling with them—Gladio's baby sister, he learned in that same time frame—who had contracted a small fever from the trip overseas. With their mother out of the picture—and Ignis still hasn't asked after that information—it fell on Gladio and some of the other members of the Crownsguard to look after the baby. 

That side though—the softer side, the side that panicked in a way similar to how Ignis panicked over Prompto and… honestly, any of those he'd managed to become close to in the manor—had ultimately convinced Ignis to give him a second chance. The two of them fell asleep in Mrs. Elshett's room while the healers helped her take care of Iris and, when they finally woke up the next morning—much later than Ignis was accustomed to, at that—they were in the same room. One of the guest rooms with two beds; Ignis is his own and Gladio in the other with Mrs. Elshett and Iris' crib close by.

Breakfast had been a short spell of tension before their parents seemed to realise they'd made up and since then? Since then, they've been rather adamant to keep each other company while the princes did. Most of Gladio's day was spent with his father or sister, granted; but, when he had time, he generally sought Ignis out, immediately. Sometimes Ravus if he was feeling adventurous enough to ask for a sparring session and managed to get out of the various fields of visions of any and all adult supervision. But, usually, Ignis.

They spent hours in the library, with Ignis pointing out some books that Gladio would hopefully be able to get when they went back to Lucis; if not, Ignis saw no problem with him borrowing them. Most things came in numerous copies, so… it wouldn't be _too_ horrible, so long as they were none of the royal family's personal collection. Even longer, though, they spent outside. Admittedly, Ignis doesn't much enjoy this part… but, Gladio made it _fun_. Yes, it was pretty outside—more than pretty, honestly—but it was… still outside. Where things—people especially—could get dirty. Gladio doesn't seem to have many reservations about the number of grass stains he sustains when he stumbles, jumping down or climbing up a hill, or the leaves and brush that stick to his jacket and hair when he climbs trees or crawls under bushes to find something. 

Generally speaking, Ignis stands back and watches him, somewhere between fascinated and utterly mortified by what this will end up meaning so far as his caretakers go. That ends up being rather irrelevant when Gladio admits he prefers tending to his own clothes; they have caretakers and maids, but they were usually busy with his father or sister, so Gladio tried to do his own chores and self-maintenance routines to make their jobs easier. _Besides_ , he'd said with a rather nonplussed shrug, _gonna be travelin' when I get older, prob'ly. Might as well learn now, yeah?_

It made perfect sense and, the more time they spent outside, the more Ignis learned as well. Whenever they got 'lost', Gladio wouldn't let Ignis tell him how to get back to the manor. Not that he didn't value the second opinion, his exact words had been to the point of 'learning how to track and navigate'. It was mostly a game to him, but… definitely something they would need in real world situations one day. Probably. Likely, if this 'traveling' business actually came about.

Normally, however, once the sun sets, Gladio lets Ignis offer input. Navigating at night without a plan is dangerous and they both know it. Especially so with as many overlooks as the manor has around it. It would be far too easy for either of them to fall and Six only knew if they'd be lucky enough to merely tumble down a hill as opposed to walking right off a cliff.

Before he has a chance to ask a second time, because he really is getting nervous about the possibilities of walking off a cliff, he ends up recoiling when the moonlight is suddenly a lot brighter than it is filtered through leaves and blinks, hard, a few times to try adjusting his eyes to the sudden increase. Immediately, any complaints he _may_ have had vanish and he finds himself trying to bite down a rather genuine smile.

He's no stranger to the sylleblossom field but… this is the first time he's seen it at night.

His smile grows a little when he spots a small, cleared area on the edge of the fields and glances over at Gladio with a raised brow. "This is where you were all day?"

The older boy returns the grin and shrugs his head a little to one side. "Yep. When you started talkin' 'bout them old legends and what not? Got the idea. S'the only really clear area 'round here… ain't like Lucis. So… figure, y'know, get to learn some of the constellation stuff 'fore I go home? It'd be really great, right?"

When Ignis nods this time, Gladio gives his hand a gentle tug over to the cleared area. The closer they get, he realises there are blankets and some pillows set up and he raises a brow in alarm. "How long do you intend we stay out here?"

Gladio gives him a rather curious look. Like the answer should be obvious and looks between Ignis and the blanket a few times before answering in a slow drawl. Like he isn't sure the question is serious or not. "All night? Already asked m'dad and Queen Sylva and your mom. They know where we are." He shrugs a little. "Said you'd never been campin'. Ain't so bad in a… what'd y'call it… controlled environment? Somewhere y'know, somewhere _we_ know is safe."

Before Ignis can even think to try questioning any of this—mostly how Gladio managed to ask his mother or Queen Sylva for permission for this to happen, let alone avoid Prompto and Noctis all day so _they_ didn't find out and have to keep a secret from Ignis—the confused look becomes anxious and a bit rejected. Gladio actually releases Ignis' hand, shoving both his own hands in his pockets. A nervous habit, Ignis has noted, that he does to keep from fidgeting or wringing his hands. His voice is uncharacteristically dejected when he finally asks, "Unless… y'don't want to? I—guess I shoulda asked _you_ if y'wanted to, but… wanted it to be a surprise and… bad idea, then?"

Ignis just blinks at him and quickly shakes his head before this gets any more awkward. They were finally moving _past_ the weird tension and awkward stage, he didn't want to go _back_ to that.

"N-no! No, it's—" he winces a little, realising how harsh his tone comes across, even with the stuttering and bites down on his lip. "I-it's not that, I just. I wasn't expecting… could you… give me a moment?"

He hates to ask. Ravus and Luna and Prompto all know the signs to look for when he needs a few seconds to gather himself. It isn't often, but… they do and as grateful as Ignis is, it has its downsides. Specifically, when he's in situations like this—situations with people he doesn't know as well—and he has to ask for the time until he can pull himself together enough to explain. A lot of people—adults, especially—get pushy when he asks. Other children—even those in the castle—stop talking to him altogether. Because it's weird. Because it's—

"Yeah, long as you need." Gladio looks confused but he doesn't push the matter. Concern shows across his face; but, if he has questions he keeps them to himself. Mostly. He does ask one, by nodding his head back towards the blanket and pillows. "D'ya need t'sit down?"

He's definitely going to need longer than a moment. It's nothing short of a miracle he even manages the short nod that he does and, as he walks by on a slightly unsteady step, hesitantly grabs Gladio's wrist with an equally hesitant, albeit curious, gesture. Relief washes over him, more than it has any right to, when Gladio immediately pulls that hand from his pocket to take Ignis' again and follows him to the blanket, sitting close enough that they can still hold hands. It might be a little dumb—Ignis isn't too stranger to the fact that many people don't quite take kindly to such blatant physical gestures; no one says anything to the princes, but they're still… young. Honestly, they'll probably never be too heavily judged if they never grow out of their physical habits—royal blood aside, Noctis' blindness gives him plenty of leeway to hold people's hands.

Ignis doesn't have that to fall back on. Not that he's jealous of it; but, he knows there are certain things that simply weren't meant to carry on as they aged. This was one of them. Even just being eight and nine, people were already becoming rather particular about how close the two of them walked. Ignis' own mother, even, had already tried to gently warn him to be mindful of court whispers. He hadn't even though to ask after _what_ people could be whispering about… mostly, he's not sure he wants to know the answer if there's any sort of chance it means he has to stop being friends with Gladio.

He's not sure how long they stay there; but, at some point, he finally finds himself mostly grounded enough to try talking. Even if it means he scoots a little closer—close enough their legs are touching, their arms are touching, close enough he can put his head down on the older boy's shoulder—and lets out a slow breath before he tries to explain. First, though…

"Thank you." His voice feels quiet; but, given that Gladio makes a questioning noise, he assumes he's speaking loud enough. "For… letting me have that moment. Most people do not. So, thank you."

"Looked like y'needed it." Gladio shrugs the shoulder that Ignis isn't leaning on and tilts his head so it's resting on top of Ignis'. "Don't see the big deal. Sometimes y'just need a few extra minutes to get your head on straight, yeah? M'dad does that sometimes."

That's honestly rather surprising information; but, Ignis doesn't bring too much attention to it. Instead he just nods as best he can and lets out another light sight. "I do wish people were more attuned to such things… at any rate. I did want to assure you that… I do really like this. You just… surprised me. You actually went to Queen Sylva and my mother to set this up?"

"Mmhmm. And m'dad and King Regis. Wasn't gonna risk gettin' _you_ in trouble by just draggin' ya out here. M'dad and King Regis are used to me sleeping outside." Another shrug and a small, sheepish laugh. "Got a bedroll and tent set up in the backyard at home and in the Citadel's garden." There's a short pause, followed by a hesitant suggestion of, "Maybe, if you guys ever visit? If y'want course, not gonna do this again, but… if y'want… we can camp then, too? It's real different campin' in Insomnia. Louder. Streets make more noise. Nice an' quiet out here, but it's a little intimidatin', too, y'know? Cuz I'm so used to the city noise."

Ignis blinks a few times but manages a smile and a short nod to show he understands. He still raises a curious brow at the older boy, pulling away enough that he can tilt his head to one side to emphasize the interest. "You do this regularly?"

"Almost every night, yeah." A rather nonchalant tone, to show he doesn't think it's much of a big deal. "Not so much since my sister was born; but, yeah. Last year? Basically every night. One of the house staff actually had to drag me into the house when it started snowing."

An unbidden laugh escapes his lips, when he isn't able to bring a hand up quick enough. He still tries and, if nothing else, his hand keeps his smile from showing too plainly. "I've heard winter in Lucis is a rather fickle thing."

For a moment Gladio doesn't answer. He looks confused before he catches on. "Oh. Like. Weird, right? Changes fast? Yeah. That's definitely _a_ word for it. Annoyin's a better one." He grumbles a little. "Especially when winter first starts? Temperature bounces all over the place. Could be nice and sunny one hour? Good weather for a sweater and jeans? The next it's pourin' rain, temperature drops, and all of a sudden there's… not snow, the other stuff."

"Sleet?" Ignis offers. "The rain that feels like melting snow, but comes down like hail?"

"That stuff." Gladio grumbles a bit more and falls back onto his back before Ignis has a chance to stop him. He manages to land against a pillow and even still keep Ignis' hand in his while the grumbling continues. A moment later, however, he stops and offers a smile from where he's lying back. "S'cool you know all that, though. Usually, people look at me weird when I can't think of a word. Thanks."

Ignis doesn't fall back the same way; instead, he lowers himself down on his side, careful and pulling the pillow a bit closer. He would have landed on it, yes; but, he prefers his pillow a _little_ bit bunched up. Just for the extra fluff and support under his neck. Once situated, he offers a small smile and shrugs as best he can, gripping Gladio's hand a little tighter. "You _are_ a little strange. But in good ways. Just means we can both be strange… right?"

That might be assuming much. Ignis has a hard enough time around kids his age because of his rather off the wall knowledge and vocabulary. Just because he _can_ fill in blanks, doesn't always mean he should; likewise, some of the words he learns shouldn't always be used, even if they make sense to him. He was, rather genuinely, expecting Gladio to do the same as others—stare and wait for Ignis to explain what he meant—but… that's something he really needs to stop doing. So far, Gladio's proven he's able to work his way through various words he might not quite _know_ , but can figure out; and, when he can't, he asks. He's much more open to the idea of actually learning and that _is_ reassuring.

The doubt and nervousness leaves when the older boy gives a wide grin and amiable laugh. "Works for me. We're members of the court. If people are gonna look at us weird _anyways_ might as well make it work, right?"

"I admit, I can't possibly imagine people treating _you_ oddly." The admission feels a little silly. He's _seen_ people treat Gladio a bit… different. Not horrendously so, but definitely enough to be noted were one watching. "I know they do. They're rather… careful around you, usually. But, when—"

"When dad isn't there, they don't have much incentive to keep smilin' nice." Gladio's tone deadpans and he sighs, turning his attention up to the sky. "Yeah, I know. Don't gotta walk around it, I know it happens. Probably gonna happen to Iris when she gets older, too. Mrs. Elshett deals with those looks right now."

"... Would it be alright if I asked _why_? Your family is of outstanding name, title, and role." He frowns a little. Iris is possibly one of the most docile infants he's ever been around. Most of the time she's quiet and only fusses when she's hungry and even that isn't very loud. The question is rather broad and honestly can't really be answered if Gladio doesn't _know_ so he makes a rather hasty amendment. "You don't _have_ to answer, I just…"

Just what, though? Wanted to know? He's been told his curiosity would get him in trouble one day; and, honestly, it does rather regularly, sometimes. He'd rather that not happen with the one friend he's managed to make in his age group.

"Don't really know." Gladio admits, once again proving that Ignis has absolutely nothing to worry about with him. "Kinda think it's _'cuz_ m'family name and role. Shields of the king. Means everyone's always watchin'. Didn't start gettin' real bad until recent, though. Or maybe I just started noticing cuz, with Iris around, I _have_ to be indoors more. Used to just kinda ignore people. But, dad's always busy and sometimes Mrs. Elshett can't just keep an eye on a baby all day. So… I try to help."

Ignis nods a little. He doesn't quite understand, but he's also relatively certain there's nothing either of them can really ask or say to make it any clearer. "I… suppose that makes as much sense as anything pertaining to court life, doesn't it?" Instead of dwelling on the vague discomfort between them he tries to smile and redirect the conversation. "So… why did you bring me out here, again?"

Gladio turns his head and blinks, a bit surprised by the change in topic; but a moment later he's smiling with a rather thankful expression and turns his eyes up to the sky. "Stuff about the Astrals. Know little bits and pieces, but… also, not really. I know it's s'posed to be important to my family's role but dad doesn't talk much about it. Not sure what to look for to find out more, but… seems like the lore's a lot bigger here. Right?"

Not inaccurate. Ignis smiles and finally turns onto his back so he can look up at the sky as well. "That's true, I suppose. The history for Oracle and Kings is rather intricately woven together; but, with the Crystal being _here_ , Tenebrae does seem to encourage the study a bit more. Likely to remind everyone how important it is to maintain the borders."

He sees Gladio nod in his periphery and they both go quiet for a short moment. It's no real secret that Niflheim wants the Crystal. Even with a technical peace between the nations, there are rather frequent skirmishes along the borders. Always brushed off as 'accidents' and in 'no way' connected to the imperial throne. Which, horribly enough, is rather genuinely believable. The skirmishes are steadily becoming less human-driven and more daemon-driven and, try as anyone might, no one seems to have concrete evidence that Niflheim is studying daemonology or ancient Solheim script pertaining to such things. That's one of those topics that _isn't_ quite so readily available for study. Not that Ignis hasn't _tried_ , but when even _Ravus_ couldn't gain access to those sorts of books… Ignis definitely had no chance.

Some small part of him understands—understands that Queen Sylva is trying to let them have something that resembles a childhood for as long as possible; trying to let Ravus find his own grounds as the next king, by letting him polish his fighting and social skills first and foremost. But, most of him disagrees rather adamantly. Fighting skills should _definitely_ include fighting against daemons and, if Ignis has any hopes of actually fulfilling his role of future adviser as he wants to… he _needs_ to know these things.

He frowns a little, with the thought, and turns his head to regard Gladio. Would it be foolish to ask him? Well… it's not as though a negative answer would truly impact either of them…

"Gladio?" A short hum is the response and Ignis goes quiet, trying to find a way to word the question. Straightforward seems his best bet and, before Gladio has a chance to ask what's wrong, he finally finishes, "Are you permitted to studying daemons in Lucis?"

That gets him a startled look. One that makes him worry he's overstepped boundaries; but, Gladio just raises a brow at him, his tone rather disbelieving. "I mean. Yeah? Why _wouldn't_ my dad be teaching me that?"

The answer, while thoroughly expected, is still alarming. Enough so that Ignis can only stare for a long moment before he frowns. "I was quite expecting affirmation and yet… I find myself unable to comprehend why that would be so different from Tenebrae."

"... You're not allowed to study daemons? They're… they're literally right on your border, though?"

 _Now_ the older boy looks worried and Ignis turns his attention back to the sky to keep from acknowledging it. "I know… I've tried asking mother and Queen Sylva, many times. They always tell me not to worry about it, yet. Queen Sylva tells Prince Ravus the same and he's asked nearly thrice the times I have."

Gladio's still staring. He doesn't have to look to know that much and, for once, he finds himself rather uncomfortable with the look. Before he can try to break the tension, though, Gladio's voice fills the still air around them.

"Make you a deal?" Ignis finally looks over at him again. Gladio's turned onto his side so he can look at Ignis in full and offers a grin, his voice lowering to a whisper. "You teach me about the Oracle stuff? Even if it ain't everything, it'll gimme an idea of what to look for at home, yeah? But you teach me that? And when you visit Lucis? We sneak out, camp in my backyard like I told you 'bout? An' I'll show you all the stuff I have on daemons. I can put notes together before you visit. You're good at memorisizin' stuff and dad knows I keep all my homework stuff in my tent. Ain't gonna look suspicious none if we study outside and you can memorise it, right?"

Excitement is the first thing he registers in the tone before he realises how conspiratory this entire conversation is. He actually has to bring his free hand up to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh; but, not before he flashes a grin back at Gladio. "I have honestly never considered I would be hearing an idea involving secret study sessions, let alone agreeing to it."

"Can come up with somethin' to tell your mom, too, just in case." Gladio offers, going quiet for a moment as he thinks on it. "Could just keep runnin' with the Cosmogony. It's not… _really_ unrelated. Stories say the star scourge and daemons came from the meteorite, right?"

Ignis nods, finally dropping his hand so his voice isn't muffled and smiles. "Correct. Curious, though, I think. The meteor crashed in Lucis and is home to the Archeon… but the scourge does not poison him _and_ , if I remember correctly, the meteor powers a nearby town, does it not?"

"Lestallum." Gladio confirms with a nod. He soon breaks into another grin. "One day? We should go to Lestallum. M'dad always tells me about how great it is. Never been m'self. Not yet. One day, though? I'm gonna travel _everywhere_."

"That does sound amazing," Ignis admits, quietly. "Traveling. Seeing the world. Seeing _other_ nations, not just the capitol cities."

The look he gets next is a curious one. Hesitant and a bit sad, but… hopeful? Before he can ask, Gladio squeezes his hand a bit tighter.

"You an' me, one day? After… I dunno, whatever comes with royal duties and whatnot? We're gonna see everything. Promise?"

Ignis blinks; but, just as quickly, the confusion fades and he manages a smile, squeezing Gladio's hand in return and nodding eagerly. "Promise."

Honestly, Ignis isn't entirely sure _what_ comes after attending the royal family. He knows it's a rather permanent position—if his mother and Gladio's father are anything to go by, at any rate—but, he also knows his mother is permitted to traveling. To taking time away from the court, though she often chooses not to. He imagines the same could be said for Gladio's father. There were hundreds of members in the Crownsguard, surely that allowed the Shield time away from court? Unless Lord Clarus was like Ignis' mother and he spent every waking moment in the citadel, which honestly wouldn't surprise him. But… _logically_ , they were permitted time away. So, he and Gladio, in pure theory, could do the same, couldn't they?

The smile on Gladio's face seems to confirm he's thinking the same, even when his eyes close and he lets out a slow breath. "Know we came out here to look at stars and whatnot? But m'thinkin' sleep is nice, too. Gonna have a long day tomorrow."

At that, Ignis just blinks and scoots a little closer. It's not _freezing_ , but it is a bit colder than expected and Gladio is warm. He'll reach for the folded blankets above them in a moment—honestly, he's wondering why he didn't do that when he first settled down—but for now he lets his curiosity win out. "What's tomorrow?"

One amber eye cracks open to regard him for a moment before the other eye opens and Gladio frowns a little. "S'the end of the week. Tomorrow's the last day; we're leavin' super early the day after. S'what my dad told me anyhow." Despite saying they should sleep, Gladio really doesn't look tired. Sleep rather genuinely appears to be the last hing on his mind, in favour of a rather sad look. "Don't wanna go home. Spent the first two days fightin' and the third day takin' care of Iris… I mean, yeah, we got to play and hang out yesterday an' the day b'fore an' today, but… m'not ready to go home. So long as your mom don't mind, we gotta do as much as we can tomorrow, right?"

He looks hopeful. For a moment, Ignis misses it altogether as the details catch up with him. _Was_ it the end of the visit? Where had the time gone? He frowns as he thinks on it, but still gives an agreeing nod. "Much as we can. I have lessons in the morning but they won't take long… and I can make a list of books for you to look at when you get home, about the Oracle. You could probably borrow some from our library, too. There's duplicates of a lot. Just in case they don't have them in Lucis." The could probably spend their entire day in the library and both be fine with it, but… Ignis ducks his head, trying to hide the disappointment. "Can't really play in the library… but if you'd rather—"

"We should go explorin'."

Ignis startles and looks up again. Gladio grins at him, sleep starting to creep into the expression now that he doesn't look upset or anxious anymore. "I know I got us lost a few times over the past couple'a days… wanna go somewhere _you_ like that's outside. Spend all day there and we'll figure out the rest after. Sound good?"

Somewhere Ignis likes. Honestly, he isn't much of an outdoors person. Most of his work kept him indoors and, with the exception of shadowing Prompto a few days a week when Ravus couldn't, Ignis didn't travel the grounds or city much. He really didn't want to go into the city, that would be too tempting to try shopping for groceries or stocking up on stationary and other essentials for his studies. They'd already gotten rather thoroughly lost pretty much everywhere around the manor, otherwise.

A smile crosses his face a moment later and he finally looks above them, reaching with the hand not still latched to Gladio and tugging the blankets down. It's a little hard getting it spread across both of them with one hand. Gladio helps after watching him struggle for a few minutes; but, his help is throwing the blanket completely over Ignis and shrugging the protests off. "M'not cold. Usually don't sleep under blankets. Got somewhere in mind?"

He closes the argument with the question and as much as Ignis wants to be exasperated he just smiles and nods. "We could just come back here and bring the books with us… I don't go outside much, but… here? Here is nice… staying here makes it seem longer, right?" Makes it feel like time hasn't passed, time won't pass, and Gladio won't have to leave. He knows the logic is faulty; there's not _actually_ a way to keep time from passing, but he can hope.

The logic seems to make sense to Gladio, too, who just grins and nods. "Make up the list at breakfast? I'll go find the books while you have lessons and then we run away until they come lookin'?" Before Ignis can agree, however, the grin becomes a bit sly and he offers, "Or, longer."

At that, he just rolls his eyes, reaching over to shove lightly at the older boy with a soft snort. "You're going to get us in trouble. _You_ , pretty specifically."

"Can't blame me for tryin'." Gladio laughs and lets his eyes close again; Ignis follows suit this time with a slow exhale. "Night, Iggy."

"Good night."

As odd as it feels to be sleeping outside—the ground is going to take adjusting to, if they do this again, and the cold he could _definitely_ do without—the next morning, Ignis can say pretty soundly that was probably the best he's slept in a long while.


	2. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {Companion Fic for [Catastrophe and the Cure](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13180410/chapters/30147057)}
> 
> Companion pieces for heyjealousy's Tenebraean Prince Prompto x (Blind) Oracle Noctis roleswap fic ♥ featuring tiny Gladio and Ignis, figuring out their roles to their respective lieges. || Normally, visiting Tenebrae should be an exciting trip. Not so much this time, honestly. 
> 
> {Should be read after heyjealousy's chapters!}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters at once \o/!!! Please read this chapter after you read the [main fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13180410)!!!

As the ship rocks on unsteady water, Gladio, for the first time he can really recall, finds himself unable to really appreciate the lull of waves or be excited by their destination. Noctis finally, _finally_ managed to fall asleep, curled up close to Monica and Dustin, as the former continues trying to shush Iris and calm her a little bit faster. His sister hasn't stopped crying once since the night began and, honestly, Gladio can't even find it in him to be upset about that, either. 

He's long since moved from the small area, pacing the halls and decks of the private ship, until he finally finds the King's quarters. He knows, factually, his father is with King Regis. He should probably let them know that the prince has settled in and Monica likely needs help. Sometimes, Gladio can help but… his arms are still covered in ash and blood from running through Insomnia and he really doesn't want to get that on his sister. He's been trying to find somewhere to wash his arms and clothes for well over twenty minutes now, to absolutely no avail. He understands… but, that doesn't make it _easier_. So, with him not being an option, maybe their dad could—

"I _should not_ be here, Regis."

Gladio pauses before he can knock on the door and goes quiet. He knows it's rude to eavesdrop but… his dad doesn't _actually_ mean that, right? He can't mean it.

On the other side of the doors, he hears a sigh—recognisably the King's—and a chair being dragged along the floor, followed by an even heavier exhale of breath. Also not surprising. The king's been in pain on and off for weeks now—enough so that Gladio's seen him rely on a cane every once in awhile, though not too terribly often. Enough for his father to worry; but, his father always worries. That was just part of his job.

"Clarus," The king sounds even more exhausted than he normally does. "Do you not believe I feel the same? Insomnia is burning and Lucian sons and daughters are in danger. And I've fled the field, wholly against my will. I should be fighting with them."

" _I_ should be." Clarus' tone is strict, leaving little to no room for argument. Gladio doesn't know of anyone else that can take this tone with the king; but, even so, he can hear something just short of panic, as well. "I am the captain of the Crownsguard and well over half your Glaives are unaccounted for. If either of us should have stayed behind, _I_ should have. You've a son and line to protect."

"As do you." 

Gladio blinks and shuffles a bit in front of the door. He knows the royal line comes first… that's been drilled into his head pretty steadily for the past few years—as long as he could walk, he knew that King Regis and Prince Noctis came first and foremost. Queen Aulea, as well, until her passing. He's always known that, when his father finally passes, it's going to be in battle. Protecting King Regis, protecting Gladio or Iris, protecting Lucis—his father wasn't one to let death take him quietly. He knows that.

Even _with_ that knowledge, though, Gladio finds himself immensely uncomfortable, considering his father is willing to put the royal line ahead of his own life—ahead of the fact _he_ has two children to look after. Yeah, the other Crownsguard members look after them, but… that's still _different_.

"I do." His father's voice is thick in emotion. Something Gladio's not used to hearing. "I am well aware I do, but I _know_ my role in this life, Regis. Gladiolus does, as well, whether I enjoy the fact or not and I've long accepted that. Now, I need _you_ to accept that your son was long chosen to follow the path of the Oracle and, regardless of our personal stations and desires, he will need to be prepared for what is to come. He will need you for that, Regis, especially if you desire to keep him sheltered from the facts any more than you already have."

Before he can really consider much else, he startles back to attention when footsteps come closer and an exasperated sigh, filled with thinning patience, comes from much closer than before. "I won't have this argument with you, Regis—Gladiolus. What on Eos are you doing?"

The anger leaves his father's voice almost immediately and Gladio just blinks, uncertain for a few moments and still shuffling in place. He'd managed to avoid getting hit by the swinging door which was good but… now he has to think up something to tell his father. And he's never been good at lying or even really believed it was okay to lie. Especially not to his father and _definitely_ not with King Regis coming to investigate and hear the excuse as well. So, he swallows the nerves and tries to look up to meet his father's eye.

He doesn't manage for very long, though. The second they have eye contact he immediately looks back down. His father still looks angry. Understandably so, but still not something Gladio wants to try facing. Lying would only make it worse, so…

"I, uh… w-was lookin' for you an' King Regis—oh, uh." He flinches and quickly corrects his posture, bowing hastily to try excusing himself. "S'cuse me, your majesty—"

"I'm quite certain what Clarus meant," King Regis' voice is a bit softer, even when he interrupts and makes a dismissive gesture towards the apology. "Is what are you doing away from Noctis and Iris? You were told to stay with Monica and Dustin, were you not?"

Well… yes. Gladio shifts in his spot, doing his best to stay standing at attention and not squirm too much under the expectant looks.

"Yes, sir. Noct—er, Prince Noctis fell asleep an' all, but Miss Monica can't get Iris to settle, though." He takes his arms from behind his back to present them for a short moment in explanation. "Can't really help her, so… thought dad could… dinnit mean to interrupt."

"To eavesdrop?" Clarus corrects. Even with the words posed as a question, Gladio knows he's being corrected and he flinches again, with a short, timid nod.

"Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

He's expecting at least _some_ sort of scolding. What he's not expecting, though, is for his father to sigh and kneel down in front of him. Before he can even process what's happening, he's being pulled into a warm hug and he makes a short, confused noise against his father's shoulder. Clarus just hugs him a little bit tighter.

"You've nothing to apologise for, Gladiolus." When his father pulls back, he takes Gladio's chin—gentle yet firm—between thumb and forefinger, tilting his head to encourage eye contact. His expression has softened considerably, but still isn't quite something Gladio would consider encouraging or reassuring. "Shields make no apologies, Gladiolus. We are meant to stand firm in the face of all threats, verbal or physical. Apologies should _never_ be made for the truth nor for seeking out assistance. If that is what is required, we carry it out."

This time, he offers a soft smile. Almost enough to be reassuring. "Apologies are meant only for the unintended mistakes. Yes, you've eavesdropped; no, you weren't supposed to, but it came about because you were trying to help. That said… how much _did_ you hear?"

As much as he wants to answer truthfully, the last words are still ringing with him and, before he can stop himself, he ends up answering with his own question. "Why's Prince Noctis not allowed to know he's the Oracle? That's real important, ain't it?"

Immediately, he realises those words may have very well been a mistake. King Regis' expression falls and his father's expression goes from an attempt at reassurance to carefully guarded in a matter of seconds when he glances back over his shoulder. Gladio doesn't really get how they do this, but those looks… usually mean there's an entire conversation going on. He's still really confused as to how a conversation happens without words; but, everytime they happen? The conversation picks back up and Gladio has no idea how his dad got from point A to point B.

"I'm much more curious as to how you know the Oracle's role." King Regis is the one that picks up this time and Gladio frowns a little. He's not sure why that's relevant, but… that's easier to answer than anything else they've asked him.

"Iggy told me last time we were in Tenebrae." He shrugs a little. "Lore's real thick over there about the crystal and the chosen and everything, so lots of books cover it. He showed me some and then I found more when we got home. The Lucian royal crest is the same as the Oracle's symbol."

That doesn't answer _his_ question and, as he's looking between his dad and the king, he's pretty sure they _aren't_ going to answer. King Regis confirms as much with a heavy sigh as he kneels down next to Gladio's dad, reaching over and gently tilting Gladio's chin until they have eye contact.

"Gladiolus, do you understand the role your family upholds as the shields of the Lucian kings?" His voice is soft and his expression is tired; even so, he holds an air of command. Before Gladio can answer, though, he continues. "I know what Clarus just told you… but do you _understand_ what it means to be the King's Shield to the line of the Oracle?"

Gladio blinks, confusion settling heavy on his mind as he turns the words over. _Was_ there more to it? "M'supposed to protect Noct… same as dad protects you…?"

The smile tells him he's right; but, the tone and words tell him otherwise, even as Regis nods. "You are correct. There are many ways to protect people, Gladiolus."

"In most instances, we shield them from physical harm," Clarus puts in, easily drawing Gladio's attention, even with King Regis still maintaining the gentle grip on his face. "But, sometimes, being the shield means protecting them from non-physical threats. Protecting them from _themselves_ ," the words are accentuated with a moderately annoyed scowl in the King's direction. A scowl that's met with exasperation and King Regis picking up once more.

"Or, in this instance, withholding information that could hurt them. Knowledge is a powerful, _terrifying_ weapon, Gladiolus. The right information to the wrong persons could destroy Lucis; and, just as so, this information could very well destroy Noctis. Do you understand?"

Not in the least. Gladio looks between them for a long moment as he turns the words over. He _kind of_ understands. At least, he understands the information that could destroy Lucis—that was simple battlefield strategy that his father has been teaching him since he began to read. Enemies finding out strategic points, finding out _when_ an attack was being planned… it could lead to the end of the war in the blink of an eye. He understands _that_ much. Just not how it pertains specifically to Noctis.

"I… n-no… I really don't." The admission hurts, especially when his father sighs, clearly looking for another way to explain. But, Gladio shakes his head. "But, understand enough to know y'don't want me to tell him… you're _his_ dad and the King, so…"

He shrugs one shoulder. He doesn't understand it and he doesn't _like_ it… but, if there's one thing he does understand, it's that orders are meant to be followed and that sounded like a pretty specific order.

Specifically… an order not to tell _Noctis_ , which doesn't really apply to someone _not involved_.

For the rest of the trip, Gladio tries to help Monica and his dad shush Iris. He finally manages to get his arms clean when King Regis fusses and pulls him into his quarters and over to the large basin by his closet. Someone had drawn a bath for the King—one he'd rather clearly declined for the time—and he used that to get Gladio as clean as he could. There were still scrapes and bruises all of what he could see of his arms and he could _feel_ the ones beneath his clothes protesting when he moved the wrong way. But, he keeps the pain to himself and tries to get his sister to sleep, to absolutely no avail.

By the time they get to the docks of Tenebrae, Gladio's exhausted. He hasn't managed to sleep and Noctis looks equally exhausted. He hadn't eaten much on the boat—merely scrunched his nose up at the vegetable soup, taken maybe three bites, and pushed the bowl towards Dustin to say he was done. Normally, Gladio might try to convince him to eat more, but… honestly, his stomach doesn't settle well with the soup, either, and it's pretty bland. Once they get to Tenebrae, he's pretty sure Ignis' mom will have something much better to feed them.

Of course, though, there's an order to things when they _do_ arrive. His father and King Regis are immediately taken into audience with Queen Sylva; Monica follows a couple of the manor staff away to settle in and hopefully _finally_ get Iris calm enough to sleep, now that they're somewhere quiet and still—he really hopes the boat's rocking was the reason his sister was still so upset; and, Gladio gets lead off by Dustin to see the royal healers. He tries to protest that he's fine—it comes out far more petulant and irritated than he'd like and Dustin quickly apologises for his behaviour, excusing it as exhaustion—but stops arguing pretty quickly. The faster this is over, the faster he can find Ignis and get _his_ input on the matter.

He squirms a little, as the healers look over him, and finally takes stock of his own injuries as they take his clothes. His arms are covered in dirt and soot and bruises. His knees and shins are pretty banged up, too. A few nicks and scratches on his hands and face, but nothing _really_ bad. Honestly, he's done worse during training and is slowly realising it only hurts as much as it does because he hasn't slept or given any of the injuries a chance to recover with the nonstop moving.

Dustin makes him take a bath before finally turning him loose, giving him an idle warning to stay out of trouble, before he draws a new bath, likely for Noctis, and shoos Gladio away.

Gladio blinks at the door a few times, watching in quiet, curious amazement as the manor staff immediately disperses to other tasks, before he finally looks down over himself and wrinkles his nose.

He hates borrowing clothes when they're in Tenebrae. The royal colours are the stark contrast to Lucian—where he's used to wearing black clothes, occasionally with gold trim, everything here seems to be sheet white with various trim. Royalty usually had silver or blue trim. Ignis and his mother usually had green accents and black pants. Gray was pretty common place, too. But guest clothes were always _white_ and, for Gladio, at least… it was like _asking_ for the clothes to be ruined.

Now that he _is_ free to find Ignis, though, he finds that's the last thing on his mind. Being fussed over by the healers and Dustin and finally being alone for the first time since they got on the boat, seems to finally drive home just how exhausted he is. How much he _doesn't_ want to be around people—which would normally be alarming and terrifying for him—and makes him realise he really needs to get his thoughts in order if he wants to ask Ignis any sorts of questions.

He's still turning his dad's words over in his head—King Regis', too—in regards to keeping secrets from Noctis. He really, _really_ doesn't get it… but, what is he supposed to ask Ignis to help clear it up?

**[ii]**

The entire time he's helping his mother in the kitchen, Ignis finds himself continuously looking over his shoulder towards the entrance. After a third sigh in the span of what he's sure is barely five minutes, she finally spares him a glance.

"Ignis, if you cannot focus on the task at hand, I will be asking you to step out of the kitchen." She wipes her hands on a nearby kitchen rag before shooing him away from the stove to check his process. "Worry though we may, we have tasks to see to. Most importantly of which is ensuring the comfort of our stranded guests until they have word it is safe for them to return home."

There's a protest on the tip of his tongue. There is no guarantee they'll be able to return home. To be driven out of Insomnia—out of _Lucis_ , altogether—to begin with seems rather hopeless and open to a lot of uncertain endings. Before he has a chance to voice any of that, however, his mother makes a dismissive gestures.

"Be a darling and locate Pryna. You did promise the princes that she would be found and I won't have you so distracted in the kitchen. Go on."

Ignis frowns; but, he doesn't argue and quickly washes his hands before he exits the kitchen, only just barely remembering to grab Pryna's leash from a counter, as he does. If he's lucky, he'll find Gladio along the way, as well.

The problem quickly becomes that he finds Pryna with no effort whatsoever. He barely turns two corridors when she runs into his legs, looking extremely expectant—the way she does, just before she starts begging—and giving Ignis absolutely no excuse whatsoever to even try searching further for his friend. He sighs and kneels down, gently hooking her leash to her collar and giving her ears a gentle ruffle. "None of that, now. We've guests and you're to be on your _best_ behaviour."

When he stands, leash wrapped once around his wrist, Pryna gives his arm a short tug instead of falling at his heel like she normally does. Ignis frowns a short moment, trying to get her attention back with a click of his tongue and a gentle tug in the opposite direction of where she's trying to go. The dog doesn't budge and instead raises up to her hind legs in front of a window, pressing her nose to the glass and whining a few times. She's not quite big enough to see out the window and Ignis sighs, going to try physically gathering her by picking her up.

When he does, a glance out the window makes him pause and, after a short moment of confusion he looks down at where Pryna's gone back to sitting patiently by his leg, looking remarkably pleased with herself and reflecting as much with the soft swishes her tail gives.

Ignis gives her ears a quick ruffle and the grounds below the window one more glance—tries to figure out exactly where Gladio's heading—before turning to deliver the dog to her owners.

This time, when he tries to walk away, Pryna immediately falls into step with him, pouncing at his ankles every few feet, but otherwise well behaved. He makes a short note to sneak her some sort of treat later, even though he really knows he shouldn't. 

"Thank you, Pryna… now, let's see about finding Prince Prompto and Prince Noctis, shall we?"

Immediately, the dog's ears go up and she barks once, delighted, and begins taking down the hall Ignis came from. She settles down just before she drags him into his mother and he gives a short-lived,sheepish smile before quietly falling in step with his mother. She has a covered tray, likely the brunch he abandoned helping with, and merely regards him with a sidelong glance as they're walking. After a few feet, she finally speaks up, a bit softer than before, but still rather strict.

"'Tis my understanding the young prince is currently in the bath. If you would like to leave Pryna with his majesty, I will see to Lady Lunafreya until her mother and brother join us."

Ignis blinks, a bit surprised by the dismissal; normally, he might argue and try to stay on task—especially so since he was expected to be this responsible in the future—but, given the state their guests arrived in…

He gives a quick nod, trying not to seem too anxious, too eager, and somehow manages to rein in his own emotion until _after_ he's delivered Pryna. A final quick glance at his mother and Lunafreya—the latter giving him a pointed look—and he takes down the halls towards the manor grounds as calmly as he can.

Once outside, at the last place he managed to spot Gladio, he has to pause in the short-lived search. Where had his friend gone off to… there were a number of places on the grounds he could have been and it was just as likely he'd been walking with no direction in mind. Which would have been rather unfortunate if he got lost— 

As quickly as the thought enters his mind, Ignis realises he knows the answer. At least, he's fairly certain he does. Certain enough to start down the trail towards the sylleblossom fields for a second time today. 

He _might_ be wrong; but, he has a really good feeling he's not. 

**[iii]**  
Gladio lets out a slow breath, looking out over the sylleblossom field and trying to pull his thoughts to order. Now that he's sitting, now that it's quiet, now that he's _trying_ to process everything, the exhaustion is starting to set in heavier and making it harder than it should be to think things through. Whenever he tries—and he really does, because he _wants_ to understand King Regis and his dad at least a _little_ before he tries to ask… honestly, _anyone_ to help him really understand it. But, whenever he tries, he ends up thinking of Insomnia instead. He thinks of the fact that a lot of his friends and trainers are all still in the Citadel and the city, fighting as hard as they can. But, him and his dad? Not there. He knows his dad would never have let him stay—at all, no questions asked. He likely would have thrown Gladio on the boat unconscious, right along with the king if he'd kept arguing.

The screaming still echoes, deafening and damning, no matter how hard he tries to push it from his mind. The scent of the sylleblossoms isn't enough to overpower the lingering smell of ash and flames and flesh and blood. It really isn't a wonder Iris wouldn't calm down any; at this point, Gladio wouldn't be the least bit surprised if his sister cried herself exhausted and it'd still probably take another few days. If they were lucky, maybe a few hours; but… luck hasn't exactly been in ready supply—

"Gladio?"

A soft, curious voice snaps Gladio from his thoughts rather abruptly and he feels his neck protest when his head physically snaps up and over his shoulder, tension shooting through his nerves and muscles. Anticipation and anxiety wash away to relief and he offers a weak smile when he sources the voice, "Hey, Iggy… was just thinkin' to come find ya. D'ya got psychic powers, now?"

The younger boy offers a gentle smile and shakes his head a little, pushing his glasses back up his nose when the motion disrupts them a small fraction. "I should hope not… that sounds a rather unfortunate ability, doesn't it?"

"True… imagine bein' able to hear people thinkin'? Probably not worth it, honestly."

He means for the words to be a joke; but, just as quickly, his mood spirals again when his mind decides to supply a rather upsetting scenario. Of which, if anyone _did_ have psychic powers… maybe they could've stopped this from happening. Maybe Insomnia wouldn't be under attack and Gladio would just be waking up and getting ready to pen a letter to his friend in place of doing any actual homework.

What's worse is Ignis seems to catch on, if the way his own smile falters and fades into a carefully neutral expression. The one he wears when he's trying to find words that won't sound too odd or lead to misunderstandings. Instead of trying, though, he crosses the short distance between them and carefully settles to the ground next to Gladio, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them loosely.

"Mother told me… a little of what happened. Nothing specific, but… enough for me to worry." Ignis turns his head, concern shining rather plainly in the green eyes. More so when Gladio refuses to meet the look; but, he doesn't press for eye contact and instead asks, "Are you alright—well… no, I reckon not. But… for the moment, _physically_? The healers saw to you already?"

A short, somber nod. Gladio raises one of his arms so he can look at his hand, flexing his fingers a few times. "A little sore still… just bruises mostly. A few scrapes. Rather me hit the ground than Iris, y'know? After Miss Monica took her, was able to run fine. Nothin' serious."

There's another question lingering in the air. One Ignis clearly _wants_ answered, but is too scared to ask. Gladio answers to fill the silence.

"I'm… okay. I think… I mean, I know I will be. Eventually." He runs a hand back through his hair, grumbling a little bit. His dad _just_ cut his hair into the military crop, making it a lot shorter than he's really used to. Not layered like Noctis' or Ignis' hair or even Prompto's or Ravus'. Gladio gets _why_ … but he's used to his hair being a _little bit_ longer. It gave him something to muss when he needed to get his thoughts in order. Maybe after he finished training for the Crownsguard he'd be allowed to grow it back out… a lot of the Glaives had long hair, still, guys and girls.

He shakes his head, sharply, to push the distractions down and sighs. "Hard to think straight… been up since yesterday mornin'. Just barely gettin' ready for bed when everything started."

Ignis physically startles at that; he jumps and sits up a little straighter, concern becoming more and more evident, "Gladio, you should be inside, _resting_ , I—we can talk later, I'll ask mother if I can stay with you and Prince Noctis, just—"

"No… need—I wanna talk now." Gladio feels bad for causing the panic; but, he doesn't really have much of a filter right now. He rarely does with Ignis, but even less so with how exhausted he is. He starts poking holes into the dirt, being mindful to avoid getting too close to the flowers as he does. "It's prob'ly real obvious, but… dad… I, uh. Overheard some stuff. Stuff I wasn't s'posed to. Wasn't on purpose or nothin'; but, dad and King Regis said… m'not allowed to tell Prince Noctis."

He finally looks up and over at Ignis, managing a weak smile. "Dinnit say nothin' about tellin' _you_ , though."

Ignis blinks, clearly still worried, but the confusion is rather blatantly winning out. He slowly lowers his legs to mimic Gladio's cross-legged position, hands resting on folded knees. "I will try to help, though I'm uncertain how much I _can_ …"

"Just need a second opinion, y'know? Like, I understand _what_ they were sayin' but I also. Y'know. Don't."

Ignis doesn't say anything, instead offering only a short hum to show he's still listening and waiting for elaboration. Gladio pulls a careful, controlled breath and pushes his fingers further into the dirt until he can feel his hand submerged.

"So… last time we visited and when you visited… asked you about all the weird prophecy lore and whatnot, right? 'Bout how there'd be some big thing on Prince Ravus' coming of age birthday and all the stuff around it? Can you… run that by me again? Just… the bare bones version?"

"I… can try to condense it, yes." Ignis sounds as confused as Gladio feels, but he still complies to the request. "When Prince Ravus is officially titled king, we suspect that the Crystal will select its Chosen. It happens every few generations—a member of the royal family will be born and be expected to do great things for family and crystal alike. They are the guardian kings many refer to in history. Those that have left substantial marks on the world. Normally, it isn't quite so large a commotion, but… many people believe that _this_ chosen—whosoever it may be between the siblings—is from prophecy. Signs certainly point that way."

"Right. Increased daemon activity and shifting power balance." Gladio mumbles. "Can't say much in way of either, but… Insomnia bein' attacked is pretty tellin', right?"

"I would think so, yes." Ignis nods and continues. "More pertinent to your family and nation, when the Crystal makes its selection, an Oracle will be expected to commune with the Six, forging covenant so that the Chosen may be tested and accept the Crystal's choice. The task could fall to King Regis or to Prince Noctis, I believe. It's rather unclear, actually, how the Oracle is chosen, outside being of blood. The covenants are remarkably brutal is my understanding—Gladio? What's the matter?"

The surprised tone snaps Gladio back to the present and makes him realise he flinched. He feels tension shoot through his body and quickly tries to shakes it off with an unsteady attempt at an apologetic smile. "Sorry… sorry, I'm listening."

"No, it's alright, but…" Ignis trails off and, after a moment, moves around so he's sitting in front of Gladio, trying to get into his peripheral vision and assess his expression. "Gladio, what is the matter? Why are you asking me about this? _What_ did you hear?"

"Prince Noctis has already been chosen." The words come out before Gladio can stop them; but, he doesn't try to cover it up and just lets his shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body in favour of confusion. "That's why m'confused, Iggy. King Regis… doesn't want me to tell Prince Noctis. They both know—him and my dad, I mean. Queen Sylva might, it wouldn't surprise me at this point and I just. I don't get why they won't let me tell him."

Normally, Ignis has a readily available answer. Confirmation. _Something_. So, when nothing but silence fills the air, Gladio is quite appropriately confused. He finally looks up and almost immediately feels guilty about the shock on his friend's face. It takes a _lot_ to surprise Ignis—at least, so far as Gladio knows. He's never seen him this taken aback.

But, as he does, Ignis manages to recover. Not quite as quick as normal and definitely not completely; but, even though to finally answer, even if it is little more than him slowly shaking his head like he's trying to physically snap himself out of the daze. A few hard blinks, his brows drawing tight together when he finally finds his voice. "Prince… Noctis is the Chosen Oracle?"

Gladio nods.

"And King Regis… does not desire to tell him?"

He shakes his head 'no' this time. He _was_ hoping for some kind of secondary point of view to clear everything up; but given the way Ignis is still frowning, he's not going to get those answers.

"Did... did he say _why_ he wishes you to keep this secret from Prince Noctis?"

"To protect him." That's an easy answer. It's one he can just parrot. He can't really elaborate, but… he can parrot what his dad and King Regis said. "Dad said… as the shields of the oracles, our job is to protect them. From as much as possible. Physical threats and… not so physical and… I don't get it. Everything you've told me about the Oracles and the Kings and prophecy, Noct _should_ know what he's gonna get into. Is he even going to be _able_ with his injury—?"

It's only then he realises that he's rambling and quickly snaps his mouth shut after a hurried apology. Ignis still looks confused and that, honestly, doesn't bode well in the least.

"You are meant to protect him… by keeping his destiny secret… when his destiny, from all accounts and theories, sound just as tedious and horrifying as the Chosen's role to be fulfilled?"

Gladio imagines he must look absolutely miserable because Ignis lets out a slightly agitated sigh. "I apologise, I did not intend that to sound so dismal, I just… I cannot fathom their decision. He needs to be preparing himself for the tasks ahead, why be complacent?"

"That's what _I've_ been asking m'self. I don't _get it_. I can't exactly protect him from this stupid destiny crap; all I can do is protect him from the physical stuff and that's even assuming I am his assigned shield—well. No." Gladio shakes his head, hard, his lips setting in a thin, determined frown. "Even if I'm not his chosen shield or whatever… I'm gonna protect him."

That part is still a bit up in the air but, so far as Gladio's concerned… he _is_ going to be the shield. Yeah, there's a chance Iris will be—as much as he loathes to entertain the idea—but that just makes him more determined to protect _both_ of them.

His attention strays over towards Ignis after a few seconds of silence and he tilts his head a little, a curious noise escape his throat when he does. "Specs? D'ya figure it out?"

"Perhaps…" Ignis frowns, still not meeting Gladio's eye and clearly turning the information over more. "Perhaps 'tis not a physical threat they fear, so much as the mental strain…? I've told you before, the Oracle's role in the prophecy is a very draining one, yes?"

"Communin' with the gods sounds like it'd be exhaustin' regardless, but yeah. So? I mean… other than the daemon blindin' him, his health's pretty steady…" At least, Gladio's going to hold onto that belief to keep from worrying too much about the future consequences.

"Well, yes. But, more than physically if he's not _mentally_ prepared, the process can be far more taxing than it should be." Ignis finally looks up, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth for a short moment. "I could very well be wrong and I'm still not entirely swayed that this is a wise decision—keeping such vital information from him—but… perhaps they merely wish him to… how do they say… be a child, for as long as he can?"

Ignis shrugs a little, clearly uncertain of the observation still, but continues before Gladio has a chance to argue with him. "You and I are afforded no such luxury, nor do I believe either of us would take such an offer. We've been training for as long as we could and, honestly, the thought of cutting back on any of my duties, miniscule as they may be, is not a pleasing thought of any sort. I wager you would not cut back on your daily training, either."

It's not a question, so much as an observation. Definitely a fact and Gladio nods. "Dad's already tried cuttin' back a bit. Even if m'not trainin', though, I find ways to keep busy. Helpin' Miss Monica or Dustin or Noct… don't like sittin' idle. List of books you gave me to read helped a ton, but I still _hate_ sittin' still."

"Precisely. Because we know what our eventual goals in life are. The shield of the oracle," Ignis makes an indicative gesture towards Gladio, before turning the gesture towards himself, "Adviser to the royal family. I will not hold as much sway in battle as you do, but I do intend to ensure that, no matter which sibling finds themselves in battle, there is as little chance as possible they will be injured. We know our goals and we push ourselves to achieve solid foundations to build up from to achieve said goals. Noctis does not have that burden yet. He knows he has the blood of the oracle in his veins, insomuch as he understands that, one day, he will take the King's place as a symbol of peace and healing the people inflicted by the scourge. And now he knows that Insomnia is not quite so impregnable as once believed. He may not have seen the destruction you saw and, frankly, I'm worried enough about what you _did_ see… but he still understands to some degree, I believe. And that's nothing either of you—that _anyone_ should be burdened with."

He finally stops for a moment, letting his eyes fall towards the ground once more. Gladio, in that time, begins to turn over the words in his mind, a thin frown crossing his face as he does. It makes a lot more sense when Ignis puts it that way, but still…

"I do not agree his fate should be kept secret from him." Ignis murmurs after a long moment. "But… I _do_ agree that _now_ is not the time for him to be aware of his destiny." When he looks up, his expression is carefully neutral, like he's trying to remain impartial on the matter. But, Gladio can see the soft lines of worry, like he's afraid of overstepping his boundaries on the matter when he continues. "In due time, he will need to know. But, for the present? He does not deserve to be burdened with any further hardship."

That's true enough. Gladio's still out of sorts from what he saw and he's still not even sure _what_ all he saw. Noctis, though? Noctis hadn't seen anything. He had to rely on what he could hear, what he could smell—and, Six as his witnesses, Gladio _still_ hasn't quite managed to clear the smell from his mind, even with the help of the sylleblossoms around them—and… yeah, this he can understand a lot better. He lets out a long, slow breath and nods, "Thanks, Iggy… that… actually helped a lot."

"I am here to assist how I can." The younger boy smiles and finally moves back to his prior spot, next to Gladio, closer, and leans his weight into Gladio's side, resting his head against the shoulder he's leaning on. "All of that said, I'm glad all of you are… safe. I was going to say alright, but… safe is more appropriate here, yes?"

Gladio nods a little, letting his head rest on top of the other boy's and letting out another breath when his eyes close, "Yeah. Safe is good. Know we'll be alright, too. … Right now, though? M'thinkin' some sleep is the fastest way to bein' alright."

He manages a small smile when the words get a laugh from Ignis. It's a welcome sound—no distress, no destruction, no worry… just relief. Something that says things _are_ going in the right direction. Even if he's not quite ready to move and quite nearly falls asleep leaning on his friend.

Only nearly because Ignis does manage to get back to his feet and, with some effort, helps pull Gladio up so they can head back inside and get the guest rooms situated. Or… attempt to. Assuming Gladio doesn't just fall onto the first bed they find and pass out.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Child](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180410) by [liziscribbles (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/liziscribbles)




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